


The Songs They Sing of Us

by BurrSquee, Tikor



Series: Castebook: Casteless [5]
Category: Exalted
Genre: Gen, Lunars, POV First Person, Roleplaying Character, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurrSquee/pseuds/BurrSquee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikor/pseuds/Tikor
Summary: Sightings, hunts, and hints of four Casteless.





	1. The Songs They Sing of Us: Casteless

A Casteless Lunar is a song eager to be sung. Like all Anathema, the Dragon-Blooded race to ride them down as soon as they are born, before they find more of their kind and grow into the fullness of their magic. Waiting requires more resources, more sacrifice, to make the kill. The Silver Pact, too, will spread any scrap of information about the Casteless among them in an attempt to claw together a retrieval pack daring enough to rescue them. Wise Lunars will search the stars for signs of their newest kin, and ambitious ones will retrieve them for the rewards only their ancient elders can provide. Yet those few lost Casteless who evade the initial rush of attention often spend centuries unfound. Once the Wyld has bewildered their minds and bodies, once they re-enter Creation with a hunger too ravenous to ignore, then the Wyld Hunt or a Wyld pack sally forth to chase them down to their doom.


	2. Faithful Pia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faithful Pia and her allegiances.

**Jak the Outrider to the Solar’s Confessor of Kether Rock**  
I have a confession to make. I am afraid of my companion, Pia. Yes, the little one who is always following me around. She is eager to please me, always seeking my praise, hardly worthy of fear or suspicion on most days. But when someone threatens me in her presence, or if her patience is at an end, she transforms into something else. As a fluid Lunar Exalted, I see it as only right that her form would reflect her mood. And on the whole her moods are more predictable than they are not. But I have seen a glimpse of a Pia, or some other creature in Pia’s transformable skin, who I do not understand. That ignorance breeds fear within me.

One night under the full moon on a journey back home to Kether Rock she changed, but unlike other transformations I’d seen, this one was unprovoked. We had laid out our bedrolls for the night, checked them for scorpions, set the alert wards, and I had taken first watch. This night, like the last two nights of the full moon, she rested fitfully. I could hear her bedroll grinding the sand from her movements. From the horrors she’s professed to have lived through out here in the desert, I knew it was her right. Waking her and speaking of it would not make the symptoms go away, perhaps they would make them worse by bringing them to mind again in the dark desert, so I did not disturb her. I did not expect her misery to escalate beyond tossing about while asleep.

Facing outward on my watch, careful to keep my eyes away from our fire to keep my night vision, I was surprised to hear a rustle in the camp, and not from the horses’ direction. I turned to see Pia’s bedroll empty, and odd footprints leading away from it in the light sand. I abandoned the camp and our horses to follow these markings. What I caught up to was clearly Pia, in her transformed, aggressive visage. Walking upright but on cat’s legs, lashing her tufted tail in agitation, her posture spoke of the hunt and the kill. Her normally subtle cat’s irises shone, reflective in the moonlight. But when our eyes met, it was as if she did not recognize me. They flashed with warning, then she turned and ran off. Again, I followed.

She ran across the desert, occasionally sniffing the air and slightly changing direction. Her path lead to a small homestead, some type of farmers or hunters, I could not discern in the dark. Pia entered their home, and shortly after I heard screams of the wounded and dying. When the wailing stopped, Pia emerged with blood on her face and person. She did not see me this time, for I took greater care to hide my presence. I watched as this monster in Pia’s body licked the blood clean with a long and rough tongue, then set off into the desert.

I followed yet again, and was lead back to the camp where I witnessed the murderer lie back down into my companion’s bedroll. Once fully inside the mound of flesh fell and lost its extra mass, resizing back down to the Pia I knew. In the morning, when I questioned her, she had no memory of it. Could Pia or the monster smell something on the people who she hunted that justified their fate? Had they wronged her in some way? Would she hunt like this again? I do not know. Confessor, it worries me that I do not know. I have kept a close watch on her ever since. 

**Strength of Many to Ipo of the Western Isles**  
Tamuz, in his many teachings, told me of the rewards I could name for killing any Chimera I found, or retrieving any of Luna’s children to the elders for instruction, just as I was once retrieved. I thought I had forgotten that lesson, for I surely would not have told that tale if asked what I had learned. But in my travels along the trade routes of the South, I met a pair that reminded me. People of the desert are usually hard and thin. No more muscle than their water and food will allow. But these two were hale and strong, well fed, upright, which drew my eye. Normally two that well cared for would have a dozen slaves in their household, but these two had only two horses and simple packs. They had no trade I could see. I was curious, so I made to speak with them.

I approached the woman while the man was out. I meant to ask her plainly what life had lead her here, what made her the oddity that she was. But as I neared her a memory came over me, one of a great white cat prowling through the jungle, a waxing crescent on its forehead. I knew then that she was a Chosen of Luna, why else would such a vision overcome me just then? I said to her, “Greetings, sister. I have not seen you at the Gatherings. What is your name?”

She looked confused and afraid. I admit, even my human form can intimidate strangers. She stammered, “I-I am no sister to you.” To make myself known to her, I lit the Full Moon Castemark upon my brow, and let my Moonsilver Tattoos shine with reflected light. When this only deepened her confusion, I knew she must be unblooded, and I recalled Tammuz’ lesson on the rewards for bringing one such into the fold. “Then you must be taught the ways of the Silver Pact. Come with me, and all will be clear.”

Yet as we spoke, she insisted she would not come with me. I told the tale of my experience in the Silver Pact, of the boons that could be gained and the perils avoided by joining with others of our kind. She stubbornly refused, repeatedly making reference to some saviors called the ‘Illuminated Ones’ in whom she placed her faith. I took them to be like golden men and women from her descriptions. But even if they were strong and noble, they could not fix the tattoos upon this unblooded and save her from herself. Only the Silver Pact knows those secrets. Untrained and small as she was, I decided I would simply carry her back to Chiaroscuro and try again to convince her on the way. When I made my move to take her by force, her companion returned and complicated things. As I left I shouted my lesson on Chimerism as best as I could remember, “All of the untattooed will succumb to the beast inside them. For those that you love, seek out the Pact’s wisdom!”

Retrieval packs don’t always succeed. Especially retrieval packs of one when the pup does not want to be saved, and she has her own golden man to guard her. But don’t let that stop you. If you see any unblooded, turn the eyes of those golden men and women you run with away long enough to find an elder of the Pact to present your finding as a gift. It will be worth your while. The golden ones may or may not understand, but Luna’s children must come first.

 **Maduka Shin of Kether Rock, to Ayesha Ura, leader of the Gold Faction and Chair of the Convention on Essence Wielders**  
I grow impatient with your delays regarding the instructions for the Caste-Fixing working. I am a Celestial Sorcerer, just as you, Ayesha. I thought you understood I am calling in a favor for your research. My days are full of guiding these Solars for our faction; I simply cannot seclude myself for the necessary time to both devise and enact a working. Give me the ritual, before yet another of Pia’s kin comes to claim her.

 **Ayesha Ura to Maduka Shin**  
We have studied all of the Loom’s recordings on the matter, and have yet to satisfactorily define the necessary or sufficient components to the sorcerous working. Some of the Lunars pray to Luna, some to other gods, such as the Moonsilver goddess Argent Tincture, or Ever-Scintillating Glory, and others do not pray at all that we can detect. Some make great markings across the Lunar’s body, some minimal designs, some advanced and experienced sorcerers and crafters include what appear to be Artifacts into the weave of the tattoos, some do not. Some insist on a long and elaborate set of trials to determine which Caste to fix on the Lunar, some leave the Caste to chance, it seems. Others cite the names of the previous Exaltation’s incarnations, but the majority do not. All that is constant is that the Lunar performing the working is a sorcerer and that Moonsilver is ritually embedded under the skin of an untattooed Lunar. There must be more to it than that, and my team and I will discover it, but we haven’t yet.

The reason for my caution is that there are several instances where the tattooing went awry. These poor creatures _look_ like they have tattoos, they present a fixed Caste that does not change with the phase of the moon. But in these substandard cases the Lunar receives none of the protection against the Wyld that their fellows enjoy. What glimpses we catch of them afterwards record their descent into maddened beasts, so twisted that their fellows put them down. You wouldn’t want that to be the message you send to your Illuminated Ones, now would you? That the Lunars will eventually twist into madness and must be hunted? Imagine that world, where instead of the Lunars simply avoiding the Dragon-Blooded, the Solars aim their excellence at hunting them down? A cornered animal with the Incarna’s own power could doom Creation too, though maybe not as readily as an improperly guided Solar.

Have patience. We will work out the holes in our current theories with more case studies and experimentation. We are combing the Loom for that data as we speak. But I must also insist that you deliver to me an un-tattooed Lunar to test these theories out on who is not your precious Pia. That way, if the Wyld exposure tests prove our tattoos a failure, we can slay it and try again without having to explain ourselves to all of Kether Rock. She is well loved there, you _do_ know that? Do not let her bring too many under her sway. If my ritual proves unstable and we have to dispose of her to prevent compromising the mission, the Solars close to her could be compromised. Starting over on the Solars of Kether Rock would be years of setback. It would take no small amount of time to round up their reincarnations, assuming the latest round of Solar Exaltations will even continue to be chosen by The Unconquered Sun as in the First Age, uncaptured by our Bronze brethren. I know how much you hate waiting.


	3. Madame Vert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madame Vert's indiscretions.

**Bren Jere, Son to Mayor Bren of Azure, to Noted Scavenger Lord Sin Welldon**  
No one seems to believe me, but I was visited by a goddess once. She was beautiful with shimmering green skin, terrifying teeth, and a warm, lithe body. The goddess was nearly naked, with only the hint of modesty remaining from silks wrapped around her luscious body. She came into my room that night, bathed in moonlight, as though she was some wild creature of the darkness. I thought I was dreaming, for I knew nothing so beautiful could exist.

At first I thought I was going to die, her talons clicked menacingly on the tile floor as she stalked over to me. Her teeth gleamed in the moonlight, and I could feel the power that emanated from her taught body. But quickly my fears were dissipated as I was thrown from my clothes into pleasures I have never experienced before. I dream about her every night. I have never felt such passion for another being in my life. I was completely at her will that night. 

Just as she appeared, she disappeared as quickly. Once she was finished and sated, she lept from the balcony of my room without saying a word. I waited for her for more than a month, hoping every night that she would return to me and the burning desires of my heart. After the month was up, I began to search for her myself. I search for her this very day.

Now you say you have traveled far and wide on this great Creation of ours and have seen many wondrous things. Have you heard of a goddess like I describe? A goddess of the treestriders more beautiful than any woman on creation? I must find her again!

 **Light Sinks Deep to Ten Stripes at a Western Gathering**  
I am frustrated at this Unblooded’s insistence that a Caste is not necessary. That a Caste is not worth the trouble to keep the Wyld at bay, and the Wyld can be kept out by other means. That she feels it is a control upon her life. Who is she to throw the Pact’s wisdom away like that? To invite chimerism upon herself? 

And I saved her. I saved her from the Wyld hunt that would have destroyed her if they had caught her. And this is the thanks she gives me? By completely dismissing the gracious offer I gave her?

I should try to be more patient. I’m sure she’ll change her mind and decide to find a Caste the first time she grows a tail out the front of her abdomen. I’m sure after that she’ll decide to be useful to society and stop playing these childish little games. There is nothing to be gained and your very mind and body to lose by remaining Casteless.


	4. Echinna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Records of the sealed beast.

** From the Personal Journal of Temple, Ostiary of the Eastern Hunt Post, Dawn Vigil **   
_The 27th of Resplendent Air, Realm year 556_

My astrologer has informed me that an Anathema has surfaced here in Thorns. It was only last month when we rode up to the Marukan plains to track down Anathema rumors. We found nothing then, but we cannot let that influence our vigilance. The Wyld Hunt will ride out again. Or in, as this case requires, to the city proper.

The slaying of some Fair Folk who dared to make a home in the nearby wilderness left a Demesne tainted by their energies. We cleared them out, of course. I have already negotiated with the local sorcerers of Thorns to ward the place off to prevent attracting more of their kind. So I have resolved to manage both problems at once. We all know that when we kill an Anathema it is reborn, taking the life of another innocent. If I can trap it behind the wards, we may earn some small respite. It will not solve the Anathema problem overnight, but it is the small contribution of this pious soul to the Elemental Dragon’s perfected hierarchy in Creation. 

The suspected Anathema is from the lower class here in Thorns. Her parents are laborers, and she does not seem to frequent their abode any longer. They will still be rounded up to stand inquiry about Anathema influence, but I hope that they prove unaltered. She makes her home on the outskirts of the city, outside of its walls in the slums, so we cannot use the gates as effectively as we might in a normal hunt. No matter. The objective is different here. I have ordered the city watch to close the gates on the day of our hunt so that she only has outward to run, towards our freehold. Flushing her away from the city lowers the chances of native casualties as well.

**From the Wyld Hunt Deposition Log**   
_The 3rd of Descending Earth, Realm year 572_

For the Record? I am Wavelet, a thaumaturge in His Majesty’s Thaumaturgical Corps, second class. My talent lets me aid sorcerers in their spells and workings. Yes. I was present at the latest warding of Echinna The Faceless, Demon Huntress of Thorns. I saw that… thing. Yes, sire, I’ll tell you. It was hideous. It only had eyes on one side of its face, three of them. Instead of hair, spider’s legs sprouted from its scalp. Its legs were tentacled masses below the knees, and the eyes on them were unnatural. Beneath that skirt of tentacles a horned ankle of a goat could be seen, hoofed and bent backwards. One arm looked like a fused dog, the other, long and clawed. It had the bones of a wing on its back but no feathers or skin to aid it in flight. And its chest was so misshapen that I don’t want to name it the female sex it approximated.

I am ashamed to admit that seeing the creature alarmed me so, and interrupted my work. I was not the only one, but that is no excuse. After the warding was done the abbess, Temple, saw my shame. While our horses walked us home, she spoke to me saying that mere mortals were not meant to stand before the Anathema - it was a job for Dragons. She said that even getting as close as I did was courageous. And she mentioned this talk here, to see how deeply I have been influenced.

If you had asked me if a single look at an Anathema could change a man before yesterday, I wouldn’t have thought it possible. I’ve helped many sorcerers summon and handle their demons, and they haven’t caused me much stress - how much more powerful could the Anathema be? But now I know it to be true. I am changed. I do not think I am under its influence. Simply scarred by the terror of it. I barely slept last night as I heard it crash against the wards again and again, reverberating in my memory. My wife had to wake me; I was thrashing and disturbing her. If it had meant to bring me under its thrall, it has missed. My fear will keep me away. Next year, I’ll be sure to be assigned to a different project come next Resplendent Air.


	5. The Chimera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Signs of a changing, roaming horror.

**Tikor, to Himself as he Divines the Stars**  
I have seen the rebirth of an unblooded Lunar in the stars. At least I think it is a rebirth. A reappearance, which is usually the same thing. The Exaltation roams Creation again, where shortly ago it did not.

But it is already twisted, erratic, dancing between the stars. That is a sign the new Lunar does not mix well with Fate, characteristic of the Wyld taint. But it is in the near east, that much is clear. How could a young Lunar so far from the edge of the world have taken that much Wyld on so quickly? It doesn’t make sense. But, whether or not it makes sense, a retrieval pack should be formed.

I’ll send the message along with Bitter Sap to take to Bulb of the Perfected Lotus. The promise of gifts for a successful retrieval always feels more real when a gift is already forthcoming. Perhaps the two of them could do it, or perhaps Bulb of the Perfected Lotus knows someone to rope into the glory and reward. I’m far too busy here. I have another Solar coming in soon, one Sower in Dust. He somehow was employed by a Dragon-Blooded, Miss Tachibana Yito, and I must question him on how he managed to fool her for so long. Before I ask the stars who his bonded Lunar is and send him off, of course.

 **Bulb of the Perfected to Bitter Sap on the Chimera**  
These are the tracks of a Chimera. How do I know? Because they should not exist. No creature changes their feet this much. A pack of Wyld things with various feet would have more tracks. Yes, this is a Chimera trail.

Magnificent Jaguar taught me of them. Said that any elder of the Pact would grant a boon in exchange for their ashes. I say we hunt it.


End file.
